


Final Exam

by Longpig



Category: Fox Force Five (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Backstory, Bechdel Test Pass, Gen, Martial Arts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longpig/pseuds/Longpig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Chinatsu Koyama has an unexpected meeting with some students after class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Exam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/gifts).



> This is my take on Chinatsu's introduction to FF5. I went for a modern interpretation of the story - I imagine this version of the show would have been like a mash-up between Charlie's Angels and Person of Interest.

Dr. Chinatsu Koyama watched her students file slowly out of the stuffy lecture hall, a sluggish tide of youth dazed by the information dump they had just attempted to absorb. The last class of term was a review of all the exam material, and as such was always well-attended. There were always a few, optimistic or naïve, who would turn up to that final revision after having skipped all or most of the lectures, hoping that it, plus Blackboard, would see them to a passing grade. And perhaps it could... but they would never grasp the true poetry of the Krebs cycle from a collection of bare-bones Powerpoint slides. _A shame._

 She thought briefly of the girl she'd spotted in the fourth row, a blonde cheerleader type who had been furiously texting throughout the fifty-minute class. _Such disrespect... Why even bother?_ A reprimand had been on the tip of her tongue when another student caught her eye. There was something about the way he held himself, the way he glanced at her over the screen of his laptop, the clothes that were just a little too expensive for an undergraduate at a state university. She'd finished the rest of her lecture and answered the flurry of raised hands as though on autopilot, while she focused on her mental preparations for what was to come. As the auditorium door swung shut behind the last of her pupils, she snapped the clasp of her briefcase, briefly savouring its crisp echo in the empty hall. _Well. Let's get this done._

 The corridor outside was all but empty – students didn't tend to linger after the last class of the day. A couple chatting by the vending machines; a young man pinning up a flyer for an end of term postgrad pub night. Chinatsu swept her gaze down toward the entrance lobby, but registered nothing and no-one out of place. _Not here, then..._ She strode past the stragglers with polite nods of acknowledgement, and pressed the elevator call button. The doors slid aside almost immediately, revealing a tall, powerfully built blonde man, wearing a suspiciously bulky windbreaker. She stepped inside and tapped the button for the underground parking garage. Her companion was trying not to seem like he was watching her. Was she imagining the Slavic cast to his features? _I thought I had left all this behind... but I should have known it was impossible._ As impossible as escaping her own blood.

 As the doors opened on the garage, she felt the barrel of his gun press into her spine. Chinatsu tensed her muscles and let out a little gasp – he would expect her to be startled.

 “Come quietly and you will not be harmed,” he hissed into her ear. _Russian. Definitely Russian._ So it was to be an abduction, then. A black Mercedes pulled up in front of the elevator, and her would-be captor nudged her forward with his weapon. She could just make out the profile of the driver – the man from the lecture theatre. _Only two?_ She glanced quickly around but saw no other signs of movement. They would have locked the stairway doors to prevent unwanted spectators, and she had no doubt that the elevator would shortly be out of order.

 Another sharp poke to her spine signalled that it was time to move. She thought briefly of thekaiken sewn into her blazer, but in this instance, the empty hand would be more expedient. With a quick but soft exhalation, she cleared her mind. Sudden and soft as the summer rain, she let herself drop, then twisted up and around to seize the lout's wrist with her left hand, wrenching the wrist of his gun hand with an elastic pop. He barely had time to cry out his surprise before she sprung up, snakelike, and struck out with a quick right to his throat. His yell was cut off as his trachea collapsed, and he crumpled to the ground. She kicked the pistol away, underneath a sedan parked in the handicapped space. As useful as it might have been, she had made a vow abjuring the use of firearms.

 The second man was getting out of the car, his stunned look curdling into a scowl as he reached inside his coat. Chinatsu slipped to the ground and rolled behind a support column for cover, abandoning her heels.

 “We'd hoped that a woman of science like yourself would choose to avoid violence.” The driver's voice echoed hollowly in the cavernous structure. She did not reply, but busied her fingers freeing her weapon from its pocket. She could hear him starting to pace between the rows of cars, searching for his quarry. Paralleling his movements, she stole barefoot along the line, waiting for her opportunity. As he turned to sweep back the other way, she sprang, vaulting over the roof of a low-slung sports car and on to her opponent's back, hooking one arm around his throat to try and crush out his breath. With her other hand she managed to disarm him as she had his friend, but he was quicker and more skilled, and flipped her off over his shoulder. Unfazed, she rolled with the throw and came up into a ready stance. The Russian mirrored her pose, and the dance was on. Chinatsu acted on instinct, as she always did in combat, feeling the energy of the duel flow through her, rather than relying on any choreographed maneuvers. She could almost never describe what had happened during one of her fights; she was too immersed in each individual moment. In a matter of seconds, her attacker's hands were slashed bloody, and a rent opened across his cheekbone. A lucky kick managed to send her knife spinning, but she was otherwise unharmed. Whoever had sent these men had woefully underestimated her. Men often did.

 With the grace of a cat, she moved towards him, feinted, then swept his legs out from under him. In the blinking of an eye, she was on him again, pinning his neck between her wrists while lifting and holding his left arm above his head in a Katahajime stranglehold. He tried to kick her off, but this time her grip was solid, and his strength failed quickly as the blood supply to his brain was obstructed. Just as his head finally lolled limply to the side, Chinatsu heard footsteps echoing on the concrete. _Another...?_ She looked up to see a tall woman with long golden hair, dressed in a close-fitting black jumpsuit. _The cheerleader._ She let the man slump to the ground, ready to go another round; but the other woman did not seem hostile.

 “Huh. I was supposed to be rescuing you, but you seem to have everything in hand down here.”

 “Who are you?” Chinatsu asked slowly. She was still not certain if she was dealing with an ally.

 “The name's Somerset O'Neil.” The blonde flashed a Hollywood smile. “Who're **you**? I thought you were just a science teacher, but...”

 “I am.” She looked away quickly, wondering how much O'Neil knew.

 “So... do you know who these guys are, then? Why they came after you?”

 “I have an idea.” She bent over her unconscious foe, and rolled up the cuff of his jacket. On the inside of his wrist was the tattoo of a coiled black dragon. “W.I.S.P.E.R...” she murmured. O'Neil nodded.

 “It was only a matter of time, after what happened with your father.” Somerset shrugged awkwardly and glanced away briefly. “Uh, I mean, I'm sorry for your loss.”

 Chinatsu nodded numbly as she rose to her feet. “It's alright... As you say, it was inevitable.”

 There was a short, uncomfortable silence before Somerset spoke up again. “You know you can't go back to your job, right? It won't be safe.” Chinatsu glanced ruefully back toward the elevator, as though it represented another life she would have to abandon.

 “No, I suppose it won't.” When she turned back around, the other woman was studying her appraisingly.

 “You really have some moves,” she began thoughtfully. “You know kung fu?”

 Chinatsu could not help but bristle defensively in response. “No. Kung fu is the collection of _Chinese_ martial arts. I was brought up in the tradition of the Onna-bugeisha. My father trained me to be a warrior. I am skilled in both armed and unarmed combat, but particularly in jujutsu and naginatajutsu.. It is...” She stopped short when she noticed the glazed, bemused look coming over the American woman's face. She shook her head, a small smile creeping across her lips. Regardless of her misconceptions, she had a good feeling about Somerset O’Neil. “Never mind. Kung fu. Sure.”

 O’Neil grinned broadly, and held out her hand to shake. “Well, come along with me then. I think we might be able to help each other out. Have you ever heard of Fox Force Four?”

 

 


End file.
